Beta: The lovely kokiden~ Thanks again!
Having fallen asleep, Hiroki sat at their dining table with the most peaceful look on his face. His arms curled under his head like a makeshift pillow, and the rise and fall of his back was steady.
Nowaki smiled at the sight of it.
He brushed stray snowflakes off of his shoulder as he leaned over to press his lips to Hiroki's forehead, his hand on the back of Hiroki's head. The mahogany strands of hair felt soft between his fingertips. A hint of vanilla sugar-scented shampoo hung in the air surrounding Hiroki.
Hiroki must have taken a shower then sat at the table waiting for him, for over an hour, and fallen asleep, Nowaki realized, as a small pang of guilt twitched in his stomach.
After sliding off his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair, Nowaki stared at the empty cup sitting across from Hiroki beside the brunette's own half-empty mug. Hiro-san had set it out for him, hadn't he? When was the last time Hiroki had had the time to sit and wait for him like this? And Nowaki hadn't even been there to meet him.
With a sigh, Nowaki took the cup over to the coffeemaker and filled it. Hiroki was still fast asleep when Nowaki sat down. He blew gently at his steaming mug.
He sighed again. Tonight it just couldn't have been avoided – he'd already pushed off that stack of dreadful paperwork last week for their date...
He almost laughed when he realized how silly they were. Even after all these years, they couldn't communicate small things like this.
Nowaki sipped from his coffee with a drawn out slurp. Peeking over the edge of the table, he smiled fondly when he noticed Hiroki was wearing fuzzy slippers to match his pajamas – slippers that Nowaki had bought him the last time they had gone out together. At the time, Hiroki had said they were 'pointless to get' since he already had a pair and yet...
As Nowaki looked up again, a lock of hair fell across Hiroki's cheek. He reached across the table, placing it back behind his ear. His fingertips grazed Hiroki's cheek lightly. Nowaki was forced to stifle a laugh when Hiroki's face twitched at the touch and the brunette began to stir.
"Ah, I must have fallen asleep," Hiroki said to himself, drowsiness cloaking his voice. He rubbed at an eye and looked up, jumping slightly at the sight of a smiling Nowaki.
"I'm back, Hiro-san," he said quietly.
"Ah, Nowaki, welcome back," Hiroki yawned and stretched a little. "Sorry, I must be tired."
Nowaki fiddled with the cup in his hands. "Sorry for being late, Hiro-san."
"Eh? No, it's fine."
"I didn't know you'd be waiting up for me, I would have called."
"It was just a spur of the moment thing. Don't worry about it," Hiroki explained, waving a hand as if to brush it off.
Silence fell, but Nowaki felt happy. When he stretched a hand out, however, Hiroki pulled his own, which had been sitting innocently upon the tabletop, away.
"Don't even think about it."
Nowaki gave him a questioning look. "I thought you weren't mad at me, Hiro-san."
Hiroki narrowed his eyes. "I know what you're thinking."
"Eh?" Nowaki blinked. "I wasn't thinking about that."
"See! How else would you have known what I was talking about?"
"Couldn't I ask the same of you?"
Hiroki frowned, blushing. He had just let Nowaki 'catch' him. He must still be sleepy.
"Never mind." He looked away and halfheartedly held his hand out, a darker pink dusting his cheeks.
Nowaki chuckled at the gesture, taking Hiroki's hand into his. They sat quietly for another moment, and Nowaki admired their entwined fingers, while Hiroki's eyes fell to the floor in embarrassment.
Under the table, their knees brushed and Nowaki deliberately nudged at Hiroki's foot with his own. Hiroki made a face.
"Are you trying to play footsies with me…?" he whispered harshly, as if there was someone else to hear.
Nowaki laughed and scooted closer. "Oh, Hiro-san..."
Before Hiroki knew it, he was fighting back, glaring at the smiling fool across the table from him.
"Hiro-san," Nowaki said suddenly, "You're like dynamite."
"What the hell?"
Nowaki's foot effectively fended off Hiroki's and sneaked its way up the brunette's thigh. Hiroki grew red in the face as it inched closer to its target.
"Okay, that's enough, you idiot!" Hiroki huffed, standing. Nowaki stood, too, leaning forward and looking directly into Hiroki's eyes.
"Don't call me fragile like some teenage girl!" the brunette protested. His body was telling him to move away, to further show his annoyance, but Nowaki's dark blue-eyed stare was getting to him, pegging him to the spot.
"And…" Nowaki moved around the table, closer and closer to Hiroki. "…so very sensitive."
Hiroki wasn't sure if Nowaki had done it intentionally, but that last word had sounded strangely dirty when it passed between Nowaki's lips.
His mind was momentarily wiped blank as Nowaki kissed him. This was stupid, why did he still react like this when they'd been going out for years?!
Hiroki chided himself for falling for Nowaki's stupid tricks. By the time he had regained his composure, Nowaki had already managed to pin Hiroki to the table with his hips, and somehow, Hiroki's hands had of their own accord wrapped themselves around Nowaki's neck.
Nowaki pulled away to run his tongue along Hiroki's neck, stopping abruptly to nip at the reddening skin.
"But Hiro-san," he murmured huskily, "I'm the only one who can light your fuse, so that's just fine with me."
Hiroki shuddered against him, his breathing fast.
"Just shut up, you idiot…" he spit out as he pushed their lips together again. But his heart betrayed his words, racing in his chest at Nowaki's possessive tone. A small part of his brain wondered if he was becoming a masochist (or worse, already was), but another part, a more honest part, of him realized…
Maybe it was because he still wasn't done falling in love with Nowaki that he kept on reacting like that? Not that he'd ever fallen out of love with him or gone backwards, but…more than that, as cheesy and high school girl-like as it sounded, every time Nowaki did something stupid like this, he could feel his heart jumping and trying to burst out of his chest like a summer-festival rocket.
And the idea of it made his cheeks burn so red, Nowaki paused to check Hiroki for a fever, and only at Hiroki's flushed-face insistence did he continue on.